


No Longer Alone

by princessrorora



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mad Beauty, happy birthday julie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:32:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessrorora/pseuds/princessrorora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle finally gets a chance to thank Jefferson for saving her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Longer Alone

The door is already partially open when Belle presses her knuckles against it to knock. Grace’s bag hangs loosely in her fingers as she peeks inside, awkwardly bouncing on her toes as she considers stepping inside or remaining where she is. 

"Uh, hello? It’s me, Belle…from the library." Silence. "Grace? Honey, you left your bookbag...I just...wanted to bring it by so you don't miss out on any homework." Grace had gotten into the habit of coming to the library every day after school. She would sit with Belle and do her homework until her father would come pick her up. Belle adored the little girl, and Grace seemed to like her a great deal. Belle had a special place in her heart just for Grace, for the light the young lady brought to Belle's otherwise dreary days. Belle had been able to share her love of adventure and books with Grace, and Grace would soak it all up like a sponge. Which was why it was rather surprising to see Grace had left her bookbag behind. It had been rather easy finding the big house. The winding road through the forest near the cemetary led right up to the huge home. It was just rather surprising to find the door half open and have no one answer her. There’s a shuffling sound that signals someone is there, and then the sound of something shattering. "Grace?" Belle calls out as something else shatters. "Ah, Jefferson? Is…is everything okay? Can I come in?"

She had only had a few interactions with her new friend’s father. One that was buried away in her heart forever, one she would never forget. The warmth of his hand as he led her out of the asylum, the depth of his blue eyes, the weight of the coat he had brought for her. But then, he had vanished, and everything happened so fast after that. Now their interactions were short. Very short, brief interactions. She never saw him much in town. Only when he picked up Grace from the library or the rare few times they went out to Granny’s diner. Neither Belle or Jefferson ever talked about what he had done for her. Not only did they ever get the time, but it was far too awkward a situation to even bring up. Too much time had passed. It was too late for a normal ‘thank you’.

The sound of something shattering again catches her attention, along with a male voice, and Belle frowns. "Grace? Jefferson?" Silence. Belle's patience is beginning to wear thin. She can't just stand out on the porch all night and call their names. She had to do something. They could have been hurt, could have been unable to get to the door. Belle takes a deep breath before stepping inside the house and closing the door behind her. Everything seems peaceful enough. She doesn't hear crying or yelling or anything that could give away distress. Still, she clutches Grace's bookbag tightly in her grasp. If need be she could defend herself with the little girl's heavy bag of books. In Belle's experience, books were perfect for self defense. 

She can hear the mumbling again, followed by a giggle, only much closer this time. Belle steps around the counter only to find Jefferson slumped on the ground, shattered tea cup pieces around him. The cabinet above him was wide open, and teacups dangled on hooks inside. There were many empty spaces, which explained where the broken porcelain on the floor had come from. 

"Jefferson?" Belle breathes, tearing her eyes away from the array of teacup pieces to look at him. 

Jefferson looks up at her, eyebrow quirking lazily. “Well, hello there.” He looks her up and down, lips pursing. His blue eyes have a wild, hard glaze over them. He doesn't look well, in her opinion. “I didn’t realize my doormat said, ‘come on in.’”

"Ah, it didn’t." Belle brushes a stray curl behind her ear. "I came to bring Grace her bookbag. She left it at the library."

"Oh." He chuckles. "My Gracie, always forgetting things." 

"Are…are you okay?" Belle asks as she sets the bag on the counter. He doesn’t move, so she crouches down to study him. 

"I’m fiiiine, bookworm. You can show yourself out." He waves his hand at her, and she gasps instantly. 

"You’re bleeding!" Without hesitation, Belle reaches out and grabs his hand, studying the jagged cuts caused by broken porcelain. 

"It happens." Jefferson yanks his hand away, a laugh escaping him. "I’m not dying."

"No, but this could get infected. You have to let me help you. Do you have any tweezers? I need to pick the porcelain out of your hand and make sure none is deep in there. Or else I fear I’ll be taking you to Whale." Belle gets to her feet quickly, and he can’t help but watch from his spot on the floor as she instantly begins searching the kitchen for any sort of first aid kit. Watching her bounce around like some sort of squirrel is enough to make him giggle. Soon enough, he’s laughing so hard he’s fallen onto his side, the broken porcelain scattering across the tiled floor.

"Why are you laughing so much?" She grumbles, frowning at him. His hysterics force her to pause, and her frown deepens. "Are you…drunk?" She asks curiously, eyebrows furrowing together.

Even if he drank, she hoped he never allowed himself to become drunk in front of Grace, or go into fits like this around her. His behavior was definitely anything but sane. But there was more to him, she knew it. Beneath the ‘Mad Hatter’ there was a man. A loving father. That much she knew. There was always more to the story than what people could see on the surface.

Jefferson sniggers and rises to his feet, shaking his head a few times before walking towards Belle. She backs away until her back hits the counter, her stomach fluttering with anxious butterflies. His movements are fluid, almost too controlled and too graceful. It only takes him a moment before he's standing before her, close enough to feel his warm breath on her face. No one has been this close to her since Rumple, she realizes. Instantly, a stab of pain enters her heart, and she winces as he lifts his uninjured hand and drags one finger down her cheek. “Take a whiff, bookworm. Really breathe in deep through the nose.” He grumbles. “I’m far from drunk. In fact, I’m quite sane. That’s the problem.” He grins, and taps her on the nose, making her flinch away. 

"W-where’s Grace?" She asks, noticing how quiet the big house is. "I’m surprised she wouldn’t come running to see if her father is okay. The sound of shattering porcelain sure would worry me."

Jefferson’s face softens, and he looks away, down at his bleeding hand. “She knows when I need to be left alone." He lifts his gaze, and it hardens suddenly as he focuses on her. "Unlike some people."

Despite his remark, Belle stares at Jefferson for a long moment with warmth in her eyes. There’s so much she doesn’t know about him. He was more than just Grace’s father. He was more than ‘The Mad Hatter’. He was more than a portal jumper. He was a man. A man with issues and troubles and pain. And no one to share it with. Someone once told her that his curse had been remembering. And for 28 years he had remembered and been unable to do anything about it. Emma was the savior. She was the one who would break everyone’s curse. And for all that time while they waited, blissfully unaware of the past, he had to remember and see his little girl far off and know she didn't remember him. And he was not be able to go to her. 

And Belle, she too had been alone for 28 years, locked up as Regina’s little plaything. As Lacey, as herself, as whoever. Someone else entirely, she thinks. And now, Belle is alone again. Alone with her thoughts, with her duel personalities. Alone with the silence. 

Belle gently reaches for his uninjured hand. “Perhaps you’ve been ‘left alone’ too long.” She guides him to a stool by the counter, and like a lost puppy, he follows. Jefferson stares at Belle with a confused expression on his face. 

"Now…where is your first aid kit?" He stares at her blankly, watching her lips as she speaks, but not comprehending what exactly she’s saying. Something about her headstrong self forced the voices to disappear, forced some sort of foggy calming feeling come over his heart. Belle sighs, looking towards his hand again. "Jefferson?"

"Ah, in that drawer, bookworm." He gestures to a drawer near the fridge, and she nods, stepping away to dig around and find what she needed. Thankfully there’s a few alcohol swabs, bandages and tweezers. 

When Belle turns around, Jefferson is picking at his hand, teeth bared as he winces from the pain. “Oh, don’t do that.” She carefully arranges her supplies down on the counter, before reaching out to rest her hand on his arm. He frowns, flinching away. “Just, hold still, okay?” The minute she grabs his hand and begins to carefully pluck pieces of porcelain away, he growls and yanks his hand away.

"That hurts!" He exclaims, his injured hand lifted high in the air out of her reach.

"If you would hold still, it wouldn’t hurt as much!" Belle shoves a curl behind her ear, never tearing her fiery blue eyes away from his as she grabs his sleeve and pulls his hand down again. "Now, hold still. I’m sorry if it hurts, but you can’t leave it like this."

"Why are you bothering?" He mumbles, watching as she inspects his bleeding hand. 

"Because I  _want_  to.” She snaps. Her gaze softens, and she sighs with a shake of her head. “Just let me help, okay?” 

He groans, and rolls his eyes at her, but decides against saying anything. Thankfully, when she pries a piece of porcelain out, he doesn’t yank away or yell at her again. Belle looks up at him warily, biting her lower lip before continuing to pick the pieces out. 

"Jefferson?" 

The way she says his name makes his shoulders slump and his eyes soften. “Yes, bookworm?” He sighs.

"I…I just wanted to say…" Belle pauses, and looks up into his eyes. "Thank you. For…for saving me from the asylum." 

"So you _do_ remember that." The corners of Jefferson’s lips quirk upwards, and he watches as she inspects his hand to be sure she didn't miss any pieces still in his hand. "You never came to thank me. I..I thought you forgot or something." His blue gaze lifts to her face, and he can’t help but notice what a beauty she truly is. "We…we could have had tea." 

Belle can’t help the sweet little smile that crosses over her lips. “We still could. I do love tea.” She sets the tweezers aside and begins to gently dab the cotton swabs over his cuts. He growls again, but holds still, thankfully. “I could never forget what you did for me, Jefferson. Just…so much happened so fast. I was reunited with Rumple…my father…I…I was just trying to start a life. And then I heard Grace found you and I…I wanted to come. I should have come. I just…I couldn’t.”

"I know." Jefferson murmurs, gritting his teeth as the scent of the sharp alcohol rises to his senses and stings his hand. "I, ah, I figured The Dark One wouldn’t let you stray very far." 

Belle swallows hard. “He’s not my master.” She murmurs. “I could have come. Really. It was my own fault. I think I was just…afraid.” 

"You, the brave beautiful bookworm,  _afraid_?” He chuckles, ignoring the pain in his hand and focusing on the tenderness in her touch. 

"Surprisingly enough, yes." She giggles. "It happens to me too." Belle drops her gaze to his hand, dabbing up the blood carefully. 

"Do you...miss him?" Jefferson asks quietly. 

Belle looks up, and she nods. “I do. I keep hoping someday he’ll come back…that they all will. But so much time has passed I…I don’t think it’s going to happen.” Her smile is hopeful, but her blue eyes have grown bleak. 

"I’m sorry." Jefferson nods, and lifts his uninjured hand to brush a mahogany curl out of her face. She sends him a shy little smile.

"Thank you, Jefferson. I mean…it’s okay, really. I know everything will turn out alright in the end." Belle reaches for the bandages, and begins to gently wind it around his hand. 

"Well, ah…you’re welcome." He murmurs. "It might have been a little for my own benefit as well, but…I’d do it again in a heartbeat." He sighs. "Had I known you were there all along…I would’ve helped you get out a lot sooner." 

Belle smiles warmly, and he finds he rather likes making the bookworm smile. "I appreciate that, Jefferson."

He watches as she purses her lips and focuses intently on making sure his bandage is kept tight around his hand. “You make things clearer.” He murmurs, causing her to lift her head again. She gives him a confused expression, and he can't help but smile at her. “It all…it all stops replaying in my head. Before you barged in…I was having a fit. They still happen sometimes. But after everything we had to go through…everything Regina put us through…it’s hard not to go mad sometimes…like I used to. I have a bad track record with things like this.” Jefferson glances towards the broken porcelain, and shakes his head slowly. “But you make it all go away.”

Belle looks up slowly, and she can’t help but smile. “Happy to.” Her eyes linger over his a moment before she looks away and ties his bandage in place. "Perhaps we could be friends. We can keep each other sane." 

"You’d like that?" He quirks an eyebrow. 

"I would. Very much so." And surprisingly, she means it. It's not just an effort to be friendly. She truly means it. 

Jefferson notices the bookworm is still holding onto his hand, her dainty fingers running over the back of his bandages.

"So would I." He grins, bringing his free hand to sandwich hers between his. "Thanks for healing me, bookworm."

"Anytime, hatter." Belle blushes and giggles before pulling her hand free. "So, where is Grace really at? I brought her bookbag." 

Jefferson’s eyelashes flutter, and he drops his hand to his side limply. “Upstairs. In her library.”

"She has a library?" Belle gasps, eyes widening excitedly.

"She does indeed. Ever since her daily trips to the library, she’s barely gotten her nose out of books. And who am I to deny her anything? I’d rather buy her books than video games." He sniggers, and shakes his head. "You’re her hero."

"Me?" Belle laughs. "I’m just the librarian. Part time mayor. I’m not quite the beast taming adventurer I once was."

"Part time awesome!" A small voice exclaims from behind them. Both Jefferson and Belle whirl around, only to find Grace standing in the doorway. She instantly blushes and waves, a small giggle escaping her. "Hi. Sorry. I just…couldn’t help but pipe in." 

Belle giggles and steps away from Jefferson to grab Grace’s bookbag off the counter where she’d left it. “You’re a sweetheart.” Belle holds the bag out to the small blonde, and grins. “Your father was just telling me all about your library. You’ve never mentioned it before!”

"Well, I mean, it’s not as big as a real one. But I’m building my collection. Papa made it nice and cozy up there." Grace grins, glancing at her father with a beaming smile.

Belle glances at Jefferson with a warm smile. “I’m sure he has.”

"Would you like to see it? I’ve always hoped I’d get a chance to show you. I mean, if you’re not busy."

Yes, busy. Belle had an empty apartment and stacks of boring paperwork and leftover Chinese to ‘hurry home to’. It had been so long since she had just smiled like this. It had been so long since she lost herself in a book. Too much time had passed since she could just be herself. Not Mayor Belle, not Lacey, not foggy brained Belle. Just...Belle. 

"I would  _love_  to see it.” Belle holds her hand out and Grace grabs it happily, a bright smile on his face. 

"Yay!" Grace exclaims, golden curls bouncing as she turns towards her father. "You’re okay now, Papa?" She asks, needing to be sure he would be okay without her.

"Yes, sweetie. Much better. Your brave beautiful bookworm made it all better." Jefferson looks at Belle, and Belle’s breath catches in her throat from how soft his voice has gotten. 

"You really are awesome." Grace murmurs. Her father didn't take kindly to most people. Grace understood what sort of madness her father had endured. She knew there would still be those times when he would spiral out of control and she would just need to leave him be. She hated doing that. He needed someone to lean on. Grace had never considered Belle, but now, seeing her father smile like that and seeing Belle with that warmth in her eyes, it could be a thought to be entertained. Grace squeezes Belle's hand tighter. "You just…you really are my hero." 

Belle’s eyes spark with tears, and she can’t help but lean down and kiss Grace on the cheek gently. “Thank you, Grace. That means so much to me.” She pulls away and sniffles, a shaky laugh escaping her. “Come on, let’s see this library of yours.”

Before the two can slip away, Jefferson speaks up. “Maybe you could stay for dinner too, bookworm. I’ll clean up and pick us up some pizza or something from Granny’s, if you’d like.” Jefferson steps off the stool, and steps towards the two. “I mean, if you don’t have anything else planned. I know Grace would love it, wouldn’t you?” 

"Oh, I would!" Grace grins. "But I mean…I understand if you can’t…you’re probably really busy with everything…I mean…you have a lot of responsibilities now…it’s okay if you can’t…"

"Grace." Belle laughs, giving the little blonde’s hand a squeeze. "Responsibility can wait for tonight. I would love to stay for dinner." 

Grace squeals and bounces up and down a moment before tugging on Belle’s hand. “Yay! Now come on! Papa will pick something good, we can trust him.”

Belle giggles as Grace leads her away. She glances over her shoulder at Jefferson, who is watching the pair slip away down the hall and upstairs. “I have no doubt we can.” 


End file.
